Some years ago, I had this girl who I wanted to date but it ended up going nowhere. (See this thread https://www.nairaland.com/4248516/shes-not-happy-changed for the back story). After all that happened, we lost contact and I didn’t hear from this girl for a very long time, though I still had her number somewhere on my phone.

I recently ran into this girl again after so many years. She hadn’t changed much – the same sassy behavior - and she first of all accused me of cutting her off. I sha gave her a not-too-sincere apology, stating it was the best for both of us to move on after everything that had happened. She told me I owed her big-time for what I had done to cause the breakup with her then-boyfriend. I said there was no way I could pay her back for that except if I dated her and became her new boyfriend, something I quietly reminded her that she didn’t want. She told me her stance remained the same and she only saw me as a brother, nothing else.

We parted amicably that day after she made me promise to call her. I told her I would do my best to. I didn’t even remember about this promise until she reached out again about two weeks later to rant at me for forgetting. I told her I had been quite busy since the last time we spoke. I told her I would find a time to drive down to her place (I learned she had moved out of state then) to pay her a visit just to get her off my neck.

I drove the three hours to her one Saturday this past July. She welcomed me with a broad smile and a full-body hug. I won't lie, she looked very delectable and every now and then I caught myself staring at the swell of her breasts bulging against her armless top, and the smoothness of her creamy thighs in the bum shorts she had on. I reminded myself I was just there on a “brotherly” level and nothing else. I spent a couple of hours chatting about everything, how she moved away after school, her new job, everything and nothing. I didn’t know how much time had gone by until it was dark outside. I bade her goodbye and she said the next time she came into town, I had to take her out. I told her I would do my best. I was pretty much smiling my way back, until when she sent me a message stating – “I’m happy I have my big BROTHER back.” That message just soured my mood. So after all these years, she still saw me as a sucker.

She came down after about three weeks. I at first did not want to attend to her, but I was very bored that day and had nothing to do. She had told me she bunked with one of her friends and was waiting for me to come take her out. I eventually went to pick her up and we decided to visit a few lounges. The music was exquisite and the drinks flowed freely. I had never known her to drink alcohol but throughout the course of our “date”, this girl downed glass after glass of Pink Rosa. I too was getting quite tipsy after a while, and pretty soon the effects of the liquor began to take over. I realized there was no way I was going to drive us both safely in the state we were in, so I remember ordering an Uber ride at around three in the morning. I also vaguely remember her straddling my laps and sticking her tongue into my mouth while my hands roamed around her curves as the driver took us to our destination. Why he didn’t end the ride there and then still befuddles me to date. The following (mid) morning, we both woke up to find ourselves among the jumble of stained bed linen in a naked, drunken hangover, our clothes strewn everywhere except on our bodies.

“What have you done?” she asked, her bloodshot eyes wide in horror.

There was no use denying what had happened. The smell of raw sex hung in the chill air of my bedroom. All sorts of bodily fluids dried in scaly crusts on our skin, and I noticed copious lines of dried cum snaking down her belly, laps, and inner thighs where I had obviously pulled out and ejaculated. My deflated member felt crusty with her dried fluids.

“What have you done!!!” she yelled again, and her voice exploded in my head like an amplifier. I winced at the pain.

She eventually calmed down and grabbed her clothes off the floor before storming in all her naked glory to the bathroom. I lay back to steady my head and heard the sound of the shower behind the closed door. She eventually came out and demanded I take her back to her friend’s place. I cleaned up myself and not once did she look at me and utter a word as we walked outside. It was only when we got to the parking lot and didn’t find my car that I remembered we had come back in an Uber. She literally cursed me out while I got a ride for her.

Later on, when I had come down from my hangover, the events slowly started coming back from the fog of my alcohol-induced memory of the night before - the deep Frenching in the Uber ride, staggering into my apartment, the ripping off of our clothes and the aggressive mashing of our bodies together as we sucked our faces, the f1ngering, f£llatio, cunilinġus, eventual six-niner, and the culminating event, the aggressive intercourse. The booze coursing through our bloodstream acted as a booster as we tried to outdo each other. I remember us going at it for the rest of the night, both of us eventually collapsing just as the early morning sun started streaking through the window blinds.

She didn’t call me for a very long time after that day, and when I tried to call her, she rejected it. After a while, the calls stopped going through and instead directly to voicemail. I eventually stopped trying after two weeks and several direct-to-voicemail attempts.

Last week, she finally reached out. I just listened quietly as she raved and ranted over the phone, calling me several unprintable names. Any other guy would have simply hung up, but as I listened, she sounded more of whining like a puppy that lost its toy than someone who was angry. She told me that I had to own up and take responsibility for what I had done to her. I asked her what she wanted me to do, and she said I was the man and I should figure it out on my own.

The only way I see myself “taking responsibility” is to date her, but I don’t think I want her as a girlfriend. That time has come and gone.

This guy na erotica story writer.

if you had learned the relationship game, all this explanations wouldn't have been necessary...

Today is blessed.











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Loool


One chance

dimejisulaiman:
Some years ago, I had this girl who I wanted to date but it ended up going nowhere. (See this thread https://www.nairaland.com/4248516/shes-not-happy-changed for the back story). After all that happened, we lost contact and I didn’t hear from this girl for a very long time, though I still had her number somewhere on my phone.

I recently ran into this girl again after so many years. She hadn’t changed much – the same sassy behavior - and she first of all accused me of cutting her off. I sha gave her a not-too-sincere apology, stating it was the best for both of us to move on after everything that had happened. She told me I owed her big-time for what I had done to cause the breakup with her then-boyfriend. I said there was no way I could pay her back for that except if I dated her and became her new boyfriend, something I quietly reminded her that she didn’t want. She told me her stance remained the same and she only saw me as a brother, nothing else.

We parted amicably that day after she made me promise to call her. I told her I would do my best to. I didn’t even remember about this promise until she reached out again about two weeks later to rant at me for forgetting. I told her I had been quite busy since the last time we spoke. I told her I would find a time to drive down to her place (I learned she had moved out of state then) to pay her a visit just to get her off my neck.

I drove the three hours to her one Saturday this past July. She welcomed me with a broad smile and a full-body hug. I won't lie, she looked very delectable and every now and then I caught myself staring at the swell of her breasts bulging against her armless top, and the smoothness of her creamy thighs in the bum shorts she had on. I reminded myself I was just there on a “brotherly” level and nothing else. I spent a couple of hours chatting about everything, how she moved away after school, her new job, everything and nothing. I didn’t know how much time had gone by until it was dark outside. I bade her goodbye and she said the next time she came into town, I had to take her out. I told her I would do my best. I was pretty much smiling my way back, until when she sent me a message stating – “I’m happy I have my big BROTHER back.” That message just soured my mood. So after all these years, she still saw me as a sucker.

She came down after about three weeks. I at first did not want to attend to her, but I was very bored that day and had nothing to do. She had told me she bunked with one of her friends and was waiting for me to come take her out. I eventually went to pick her up and we decided to visit a few lounges. The music was exquisite and the drinks flowed freely. I had never known her to drink alcohol but throughout the course of our “date”, this girl downed glass after glass of Pink Rosa. I too was getting quite tipsy after a while, and pretty soon the effects of the liquor began to take over. I realized there was no way I was going to drive us both safely in the state we were in, so I remember ordering an Uber ride at around three in the morning. I also vaguely remember her straddling my laps and sticking her tongue into my mouth while my hands roamed around her curves as the driver took us to our destination. Why he didn’t end the ride there and then still befuddles me to date. The following (mid) morning, we both woke up to find ourselves among the jumble of stained bed linen in a naked, drunken hangover, our clothes strewn everywhere except on our bodies.

“What have you done?” she asked, her bloodshot eyes wide in horror.

There was no use denying what had happened. The smell of raw sex hung in the chill air of my bedroom. All sorts of bodily fluids dried in scaly crusts on our skin, and I noticed copious lines of dried cum snaking down her belly, laps, and inner thighs where I had obviously pulled out and ejaculated. My deflated member felt crusty with her dried fluids.

“What have you done!!!” she yelled again, and her voice exploded in my head like an amplifier. I winced at the pain.

She eventually calmed down and grabbed her clothes off the floor before storming in all her naked glory to the bathroom. I lay back to steady my head and heard the sound of the shower behind the closed door. She eventually came out and demanded I take her back to her friend’s place. I cleaned up myself and not once did she look at me and utter a word as we walked outside. It was only when we got to the parking lot and didn’t find my car that I remembered we had come back in an Uber. She literally cursed me out while I got a ride for her.

Later on, when I had come down from my hangover, the events slowly started coming back from the fog of my alcohol-induced memory of the night before - the deep Frenching in the Uber ride, staggering into my apartment, the ripping off of our clothes and the aggressive mashing of our bodies together as we sucked our faces, the f1ngering, f£llatio, cunilinġus, eventual six-niner, and the culminating event, the aggressive intercourse. The booze coursing through our bloodstream acted as a booster as we tried to outdo each other. I remember us going at it for the rest of the night, both of us eventually collapsing just as the early morning sun started streaking through the window blinds.

She didn’t call me for a very long time after that day, and when I tried to call her, she rejected it. After a while, the calls stopped going through and instead directly to voicemail. I eventually stopped trying after two weeks and several direct-to-voicemail attempts.

Last week, she finally reached out. I just listened quietly as she raved and ranted over the phone, calling me several unprintable names. Any other guy would have simply hung up, but as I listened, she sounded more of whining like a puppy that lost its toy than someone who was angry. She told me that I had to own up and take responsibility for what I had done to her. I asked her what she wanted me to do, and she said I was the man and I should figure it out on my own.

The only way I see myself “taking responsibility” is to date her, but I don’t think I want her as a girlfriend. That time has come and gone.

Boss, just smile and move on. Now it’s your time to dominate, leave her.